This is a poem I wrote years ago to describe how my busy, overactive brain works. Maybe some of you will identify!
In front of my house is a busy street
Cars race by
Sometimes the drivers roll the windows down and loud music spills out.
They are all in a hurry to be somewhere else.
I fall asleep to the cacophonous lullaby of traffic
The world never stops.
Behind my house are cool, green trees
I wake early when dark and dawn touch lips in a lingering kiss
Behind my house is the sweet aroma of roses and lilacs
The sun is warm and there is time to rest.
In the front of my mind ideas explode like fireworks, dazzling, sparkling, too high and hot to touch
tumbling over one another, antlike, impossible to catch and contain.
But in the back of my mind is a still, silent place